A Series Of Songfics
by bittersweet02
Summary: A series of songfics. SpaMano, PruCan, GerIta, USUK, 2p, FACE, SuFin, PruHunAus, etc.
1. USUK I'd Lie

I stopped at his house and look over at him. God, he's so beautiful! His green eyes are sparkling like emeralds in the moonlight. I wish I could be with him, but as far as I know, he's straight and basically hates me.

"Yet another meeting, and all that gets done is Prussia and that guy, I can't remember his name, announced their love. Who even needs love? It only hurts you in the end. That's while I'll never fall in love. It's useless!" He exclaims. I make a fake laugh. This is exactly why I'm giving up on it, on him; he'll never love me back.

Doesn't he know that I laugh at his unfunny jokes just to make him feel funny, that I know of his secret obsession of Sex Pistols? That I know his birthday when nobody else does? That I love hearing him argue with France? That he has freckles, but covers them with makeup every morning? No he doesn't, because he doesn't love me. And that is why I always lie.

I drop him off at his house. "America, would you like to come inside for a spot of tea?" he asks. "Uh, I don't drink tea, dude, but I'll have some coffee!"

He gives me a weird look. "Well, come inside then."

England looks around the room. Why can't he see that I know everything he likes and dislikes, loves and hates, and everything in between?!

"Hey, England, what do you think of same-sex love? I can't decide because some of my states allow marriage and some don't. What should I do?"

He pauses. "Well, I believe you love who you love, and gender doesn't matter, so yes I support it." He finally states. Of course. He sees everything black and white, good and bad. He gets a glazed look on his eye and says, "I'll be right back, I'm going to the loo." And runs off. I start thinking about him. His green eyes, his (really sexy) arguments with France, his birthday celebration I'm planning, his brothers, and how stupid and cowardice I am for not telling him I love him.

I remember a moment from a few years ago. I built up the courage to tell him, so I walked in to his house. Here he was in the living room, with his piercings in and an electric guitar in hand. He was playing on it and didn't even notice me come in. The way his fingers strummed his pic on the guitar was absolutely hot. He suddenly looked over at me and his face turned vibrant red. "Never tell anybody." He demanded, and then walked off leaving me alone in his house.

Without anybody in the house, I lie down on his couch and fell asleep. I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up I had a blanket on me and it smelled like him. He really is all I could think about.

When I came back in to reality, I decided it was time. I am going to tell him. I get up and looked all around his house for the bathroom. Finally, after about 10 minutes (he has a pretty big house) I find it. I put my ear up against it and listen. All I can hear is crying. I knock twice and walk in.

England is lying with his head in his hands up against the toilet. "America! What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

He looks almost hopeful, then suddenly looks sad again.

"About?" he asks

"Us. England, I love you. I know you don't feel the same, and you don't need to, but I need to get this off of my chest."

He looks at me, flabbergasted. "I don't care what you do to me for saying this. Hit me. Call me names. Kiss me. Just do something!" I yell starting to cry. I just made a complete fool of myself. Great. Now he hates me.

"You bloody idiot." He says grinning. Awesome, now he's going to make fun of me. Except he does just the opposite. He kisses me. Yes, it was short, and yes my teeth kind of hurt from him banging in to me, but I don't give two craps. He's kissing me and that's all that matters.


	2. USUK Do You Believe In Magic

**Crappy chapter, I know. Cut me some slack. **

* * *

"Amelia, why am I here?" Alice Kirkland asks her friend. Amelia Jones, the girl who dragged her to the party in the first place, simply stated, "You need to take that 10 meter stick out your ass!" while smiling.

Alice and Amelia were invited to one of the biggest parties of the school year. It had to be one of the biggest parties, Gillian, Françoise, and Carmen planned it.

"C'mon, you believe in magic right? Music is magic in a melody!" Amelia exclaimed. "Of course I believe in magic you twit! But magic is within spells, curses, books, and wands, not computerized instruments!" Alice said, seething. "Well magic is in music too! How do you think Miley Cyrus is so popular, her songs are curses!" Amelia joked.

"Belt up! You're lucky I haven't cursed you yet!" Alice said, annoyed. "C'mon, let's dance!"

And with that, Alice was dragged to the dance floor. They started dancing, and Alice suddenly got an odd gleam in her eye. She then started grinning. She then began dancing like never before and giggling. All eyes suddenly were drawn to them. Alice never giggled. EVER. She never even laughed.

"Whoa, c'mon dude, what are you doing?" Amelia asks with a weird look.

"Dancing with my love!" She grinned. Amelia froze. This is not the Alice Amelia knew. "Whoa, we're not dating." she said, then looked around the room. "Gillian, what did you put in the punch?"

"Zhe awesome me hasn't put anyzzing in! Yet….." Gillian Beildshmidt exclaimed.

"Then why is Alice all wonky?!"

"Magic. Magic in a young girl's heart. It shows her happy side and true feelings of love." Lillian Bondevic answered. The Norwegian dabbled in the arts of magic, not unlike Alice.

"Well make it stop! I want my old Alice back! Wait, did you say 'true feelings of love'?" Amelia paused. "What the Hell does that mean?"

"It means mon petite lapin will show l'amour to those she feels it for!" Françoise exclaims.

"Hold up. Does that mean she loves me or something?" Amelia asks, still flabbergasted. "My God, I knew you were slow, but do I need to spell it out for you?" Alice exclaims. Then she does something nobody thinks she will. She kisses Amelia right on the lips.

Amelia just stares straight and a blush like mad while her lips are being attacked by the Brit. Alice loves her. Yes!

The next morning, Alice woke up on Amelia's couch with a massive headache. "Amelia! Get up you twit!" She yells while kicking the sleeping body on the ground. "Unnnnnngh" Amelia groans.

"You twit! What happened last night?" She questions. "UUnngh. Yer ma GF" Amelia mumbles

"WHAT!"

"Ya gotta believe in magic."


	3. GerIta Uptown Girl

**Please read! I am having a contest! If you can guess my age correctly, you get to decide what song i will do next! And to all of the readers who follow my other stories, the contest is going on there too. These chapters are relatively short, but I only have so much time to write these. **

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I finally sit on the bench (that I made) outside of my car-repair shop. "Monica! Monica! Ve~! I found you!" A little Italian woman runs up to me and yells. She lives in the high class part of town, and is part of a full bred Catholic family. She was practically raised in a church along with her older (by 6 hours) sister, Lovina. She was one of those girls, who would pray every night and morning, go to Mass every Sunday, and be a virgin until marriage.

I will never have her as mine. Mostly based on the fact that I am; a) a woman myself, and b) I'm a poor woman, while she is a high-maintenance and beautiful woman.

"Ve~ Monica, I've been thinking."

"About?"

She paused a minute. "I want to do something I haven't done before. I want to have someone from the streets as a lover, I haven't had one before, you know." Oh God.

"Feliciana, you know your Mutti will be disappointed, you deserve more than someone from where I live." I barely get out. She obviously doesn't realize, or care, that I've wanted her for a long time now, and I'm a downtown girl. Maybe one day she'll wake up, and see that I love her, and hopefully she loves me back. I want her to wake up and go against her parents, and her own beliefs, and decide that homosexuality is okay, and she is one too. That will never happen though. Maybe if she sees I love her, she won't be as scared of me, and that I'm not too tough and boyish.

'Monica, stop being hopeful and delusional! You'll only break your own heart!' I scolded myself.

"Maybe you should try Kostya Braginski. He lives in this city." I say, not looking Feliciana in the eyes.

"No, he's not my type. I kind of have a thing for blue eyes and blonde hair."

Does this dumpkof know what she's doing to me?! I could be hers! But she doesn't want me!

"What about Daan de Burgh, that Belgian guy who likes waffles? He always reads you stories and talks to you about recipes. He would be perfect for you, and he lives right next to you!" I say.

"I want somebody from here! Someone like you! I don't-a want any more presents from any more ragazzi!" She whined back. 'I'm not able to buy her any presents. But maybe when I finally get a better job, I'll be able to impress her'

"Well, maybe I'll go and look for a boy! I'll stay with you at work and then when people come to get their cars, maybe I'll find someone!" She exclaims. She starts walking inside of the shop, and looks so beautiful I can't help myself, and I start blushing and yelling.

"Du Idiot! Kannst du nicht sehen, dass Ich liebe dich! Abfahrtsort statt!" I yell in my native tongue.


	4. FrUKUS Unfaithful

"I'm going out." I say to him. "Oh. Have fun." He says back. I can see he knows where I'm going. His eyes, which are usually a pacific-ocean blue, are darkened with sadness and anger. I know this is wrong. I shouldn't be doing this. But I love Alfred. I'm still with Francis though. Why? I don't know.

In London, I step out of our normal apartment. It's raining, like always. Somehow I feel as though it is reflecting my mood and going out of its way to mock my depression and guilt. But that's just coincidence.

I know that he is aware of my unfaithfulness. I can see it. He looks hollow and soulless. Because he knows another has my heart. But here I am, slowly murdering him.

I don't want to do this. Except I don't want to give Francis the final blowing shot. I'm already slowly killing him, but watching all of it break down at once is truly the worst thing one can see.

-Time Skip-

I start brushing my messy hair in the mirror. Alfred and I were about to go on another date. This time to a fancy dinner. I suddenly tense up at the feel of lips on my cheek.

"…are you going to be out late?" he asks reluctantly. "I won't be out long; I'm just going out with a few friends." I reply, not needing to, but lying anyway. Because he knows where I'm going. And I know where I'm going.

I go out and start eating with Alfred. "Babe, are you okay? Did something happen with Francis?"

"I feel like I'm slowly murdering him. Seeing you. I love you, but I don't know how to give him up and I don't want to completely kill him. I don't want to be a murderer." I say, down trodden.

"Murderer?" he asks, confused.

"I can see it. Doing this I'm slowly murdering him. I can see it. I might as well put a gun against his head, and just get it over with." I say. I can feel icy tears rolling down my freckled cheeks.

"Francis? I'm home. Look, we need to talk." I yell in to the apartment.

Silence.

"Francis?"

I hear a loud wail. "Francis, are you okay?!" I yell, suddenly terrified. I walk in on a horrifying sight. There, standing in front of me, is Francis with a pistol against his head

"Arthur, I know your heart is with another. So I'll leave you with this." He says, crying while putting an envelope on the floor in front of him.

The next moment goes by in a flash. Francis pulls the trigger and I can see his warm blood splatter all over the room and I.

I am momentarily paralyzed. Feeling as though I need to, I pick up the letter, and am greeted with a very depressing letter.

_Dear Arthur George Kirkland,_

_If you are reading this, I have most likely passed away. I am, or was, aware of your rendezvousing with my cousin, Alfred Freedom Jones. You obviously love him more than you did I once. I, however, do not blame you. I have had a problem with drinking and smoking, and one cannot choose the path his heart walks on._

_There was something going on that anybody could tell. Why didn't you break it off with me before going to him? You had to have had a reason for choosing him over me. I do admit that he is by far not ugly. With golden hair, cerulean eyes, tan skin, and a toned body. He was far superior to me in every way, including being a better lover to you. I'm completely sure you chose him over me._

_I've written this letter for a reason though, mon lapin. In my will, I have given you everything I had, considering I have no family. All of my money, belongings, and my house now belong to you. Be sure that my dear cousin Alfred is happy with you, and you him. Make sure also that mon petite Mathieu is pleased with his lover Gilbert Beildshmidt. I know personally the Gil does not take anything seriously. Lastly, make sure that Antonio Carriedo-Fernandes gets married to Lovino Vargas, the eldest Vargas. I want all of my family to be happy when I am gone._

_If it isn't too much, I would like to have a fairly decent funeral and/or wake. Instead of traditional flowers, I would want Irises (1) to honor my home country of France. I also want to be buried with a rosary, a bottle of wine, and a French flag._

_Please don't cry too much about my death. It is not your fault, for everybody will inevitably die, it just so happens that I died quicker than most. Live happily with Alfred. You are not, and never will be a murderer._

_Love,_

_Francis Timothe Bonnefoy_


End file.
